Deep in the Swiss Alps, where the air is thin and the moral fiber is thinner, the high priests of globalism have gathered once again for their annual ritual of hand-wringing and self-congratulation. This year’s festivities at the World Economic Forum were punctuated by the smooth, technocratic wailing of Mark Carney—a man who has held so many central banking positions he likely dreams in interest rate swaps. Carney, the former Governor of the Bank of England and current professional alarmist, took to the stage to warn of a 'rupture' in the world order. It is the kind of word a man uses when he realizes his expensive silk tie is about to be caught in the shredder of history.

The source of this impending doom? None other than the looming specter of Donald Trump and his renewed threat of a tariff-fueled trade war. Specifically, the 'rupture' centers on the bizarre, recurring fever dream of Trump’s desire to acquire Greenland, a concept that feels less like international diplomacy and more like a late-night real estate bender. Carney, ever the defender of the status quo that has served him so handsomely, declared that Canada 'strongly opposes' any tariffs linked to the sovereignty of Greenland. He stood up for Denmark’s right to own a giant block of melting ice with the kind of solemnity usually reserved for the signing of the Magna Carta. It is a truly touching moment of geopolitical theater: a Canadian financier defending a Danish territory against an American real estate mogul.

Let’s be clear about what we are witnessing here. Carney is the ultimate avatar of the liberal international order—a system of managed decline where the 'experts' move numbers around on spreadsheets while the rest of the world slowly drowns in debt and despair. To Carney, a 'rupture' isn't a catastrophe for the average person; it’s a catastrophe for the system of polite exploitation he represents. He is terrified that the crude, ham-fisted protectionism of the Right will break the delicate machinery of the global elite. He wants a world of predictable, low-volatility extraction, where we all agree to the same set of rules while the wealth continues its inevitable upward migration. Trump, meanwhile, represents the opposite end of the stupidity spectrum: a man who views the entire planet as a series of hostile takeovers and overpriced golf courses. His plan to use tariffs as a blunt instrument to force the sale of Greenland is the intellectual equivalent of trying to perform heart surgery with a chainsaw. It is moronic, yes, but its real sin in the eyes of the Davos set is that it is 'unprofessional.'

The irony of Carney’s 'rupture' warning is that the world order he so desperately wants to preserve is already a hollowed-out husk. He speaks of 'sovereignty' and 'cooperation' as if these words still carry weight in a world where the working class has been sold out to the highest bidder in the name of efficiency. He is worried about the 'rules-based order' breaking down, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the rules were written by and for the people sitting in that very room in Davos. The 'rupture' has already happened for most of humanity; Carney is just now noticing the cracks because they are finally reaching the foundation of his private chalet.

Trump’s obsession with Greenland and his threat of tariffs are the perfect foil for Carney’s brand of performative concern. It allows the technocrats to play the role of the adults in the room, defending 'international law' and 'stability.' But what is this stability they defend? It is the stability of a cemetery. It is a world where nothing ever changes because any deviation from the neoliberal script is labeled a 'threat to global security.' Carney’s speech was not a warning; it was a eulogy. He is mourning the loss of a world where people like him could run the planet without having to deal with the messy, loud, and inconvenient reality of populist lunacy.

In the end, we are left to choose between two equally unappealing disasters. On one side, we have Carney and the Davos 'globalists,' who want us to stay quiet while they manage our inevitable obsolescence with a smile and a Canadian accent. On the other, we have the 'populists,' who want to blow up the system not to build something better, but because they enjoy the sound of breaking glass and the prospect of putting their name on a glacier in gold leaf. The 'rupture' is coming, and frankly, it couldn't happen to a more deserving group of people. Whether the world order collapses under the weight of its own hypocrisy or is torn apart by the stupidity of its critics, the result remains the same for the rest of us: we are just the collateral damage in a fight between two different brands of uselessness. Carney can keep his warnings; we’ve already seen the bill, and we can’t afford the tip.